Ivy's Revenge
by Impart101A
Summary: Madison has long been dead.From her corpse, Ivy-a green-skinned mutant, is born. Living in hiding from her corrupt father,two men approach her with a chance to come out of her refuge. For her to become the hunter instead of the prey. She battles two halves of herself, Madison must choose between revenge and serenity. Rated for Language-Magneto/OC/Professer X-Featuring long chapters
1. Introduction

_ Poland, 1944_

It was drizzling outside Madison's home, the condensation fogged up the glass with little white pillars of white water. She sighed and combed her hair back with long strokes to straighten out the stubborn frizz placed there. She looked at herself in the mirror, Germany was going to hell, she decided, the war and her country's leader, Hitler, was a manic warmongering tyrant albeit a rather smart one.

Madison admired her long and flowing grey dress that flowed like water past her knees. She took in her green eyes and combed through her reddish-blonde hair, she breathed out a nervous sigh. Her eyes where really the only thing she loved about herself. They were a vibrant green, like a leaf of a flower. Her Father was taking her to work today-something that he had never done before. Some party or something-whatever, on a great success that her Father had achieved, not that he ever talked about it with her-but he said it was important. And she was expected to be the polite little girl representing her family and her dead mother name.

Her father was an infamous _Arzt_ _(general word for Doctor)_ at a camp, not that she had ever been there-but it was quarantine for the Jewish people. Madison had not shared the same hostility towards Jews as her peers, but when things had started to go violent she had thought that maybe putting them in camps would be best-that they would be protected from the fury of the Germanic people.

Much later did Madison realize just how wrong she was.

A knock resounded from the door of her bedroom, "_Sind Sie bereit? Wir müssen los, Liebling, es ist nicht höflich zu spät kommen_," (Are you ready yet? We have to leave darling-it is not polite to be late) Her father's voice cooed to her. Madison rolled her eyes, why would she want to rush? She thought snidely to herself while putting silver earrings in. There would be a bunch of drunken German ranks drinking theirs gasses dry and trying to make swipes at her, what's there to be excited about?

Never the less she opened her mouth with a 'Coming _Vater_!' (Coming _Father!) _and opened the door, and there was her father with slicked back blond hair and a devilish smirk-her was quite good looking-at least he attracted many ladies with his charisma. But as he told it, he only had eyes for her mother-whom Madison had never known.

_Doktor_ Klaus Schmidt looked down his glasses at his daughter and stretched out his elbow inviting her to accompany him; she was growing into a beautiful young lady and he was proud of her. Things had been tough after his wife died, and he had landed a job in Germany, Auschwitz. He was throwing a celebration for his 'little _experimentellen Patienten' _ (experimental patient)for being a good subject, complying and building his strengths. Yes, Erik Lehnsherr _214782_ was quite a creature indeed, he was fulfilling all of Schmidt's hopes and dreams, and he was throwing a celebration on him on being a successful project. It was going to be a fabulous affair, where he would climb up the social ladder in the German society, more power meant more subjects. If Erik Lehnsherr was alive, and Schmidt had his own secrets, there must be more specials. The more power he had meant Schmidt could achieve more subjects.

Schmidt couldn't wait for that.

His only regret was keeping it all a secret from his daughter; she was so naïve, so ignorant from the terrible war and chaos around her. She was a pacifist if he had ever seen one; she had _hated _wars-and she cared way too much for people in his taste. He didn't know where she got the genes from, but she certainly didn't get the nurturing nature from him. It left her weak-minded in his eyes, so he was slowly manipulating her, blooming her into a weapon for his use. She would become beautiful, like a shark, and deadly-like him. She was young, at a ripe age of 10, and when he was done, she would be perfect not _pathetic_.

His plans for her, all started tonight, he would break her away from the party and slip her away to the Concentration Camp nearby. He would show her the cruelness of the world, and show the turmoil's of human nature. He would show her how _useless_ people were, groveling around in the dirt, oh yes, did he have plans for _her._

Madison smiled and wrapped her arm around his elbow, perhaps if she stuck by her father all evening it wouldn't be so bad. _"Sie sind atemberaubend, meine Tochter." (_You are stunning, my daughter_)_ He whispered in her ear as he led her down the stairs and into the thrust of the party.

"_Ich bin ein wenig nervös, so viele Leute_!" (I'm a little nervous, so many people!) Madison looked around at the many people who filled her home "_Sie wissen all diese Leute_?" (You know all of these people?) Her father looked at her fondly, "_Sie denken, ich wäre ein völlig Fremder in mein Haus einzuladen?_" (Do you think I would invite a complete stranger into my home?)

"_Vielleicht_." (Perhaps) Madison sent her father a smirk, "_Sie sind verrückt genug, um sie einzuladen_" (You are the only one I know crazy enough to invite them.)

He sent her a look, then smiled stiffly, "_Du bist der einzige, der sagen könnte über mich"_ (You are the only one who could probably say that about me)

"Ah, _Heerführer_ Adalbert Alban! Wie geht es Ihnen?" (General Adalbert Alban! How are you getting along?"

"_Ganz gut, danke, herzlichen Glückwunsch zu Ihrem Erfolg, Doktor_." (Quite fine thank you, congratulations on your success.)

"_Gut. Na, haben Sie meine Tochter erfüllt_?" (Good. Well have you met my daughter, Madison?)

"_Freut mich, Sie kennenzulernen_," (Pleased to meet you) Madison said timidly, but the man was already in a conversation with her father.

Then Madison let herself tune out, the people were all so happy here. The women had sparkly dresses and their hair curled up in sprayed do's they giggled as they sat on chairs or danced in the middle of the ballroom. The men were dressed in uniform, awards stuck proudly on their chests, and Nazi pins stuck on the collar, her father had a Nazi pin stuck to his shirt as well, Madison knew that the Nazi party wholly supported the war, and thus refused to wear anything like it to anything no matter how much her father asked. Madison didn't know what job her father did to make himself so rich-he wouldn't tell her no matter how she begged. She had even tried following him, but he always seemed to know when she would do it, then again, Madison was a terrible liar. Madison snagged a fluke of beer from a waiter; there wasn't really an age limit in Germany to drink, and her father was hosting the party so Madison couldn't really see the harm. Besides, her father let her drink, only if she was _responsible _with the alcohol. Which meant she probably wouldn't finish the glass.

Hours later Madison was slightly tipsy, when her father dragged her out into the cool winter air. Madison sobered up a bit while he practically dragged her to their Mercedes-Benz (170V Cabrio-Limousine . )

"_Wo gehen wir hin, Vater_?" (Where are we going Father?) Madison cried a little shocked at the firm grip he had on her forearm, had she done something wrong?

"_Ich möchte Ihnen zeigen, was ich für ein Leben tun. Sie sind alt genug, um jetzt verstehen, denke ich_." (I want to show you what I do for a living. You are old enough to understand now, I think) He replied smoothly.

Madison smiled excited, "_Endlich_!" (Finally/At last!) Her father smiled at her eagerness from the driver's side. Madison was happy, finally she was 'old' enough, and finally-maybe she could understand the importance of her father's work. Maybe, now, she could have the tiny amount of respect amongst her peers and not be an outcast for not knowing what her father did for a living.

If she had only known.

* * *

So this is the introduction. Tell me how you like! Next chapter is all the action and soon it there will be more english!

-Masked


	2. A Lab Rat

Chapter 1

* * *

Poland, 1945, A few months later.

He stopped outside the gates of the concentration camp, and he placed a comforting hand on her knee, "_Liebe, was ich für ein Leben tun etwas widerlich. Ich mache mir Sorgen um dich. Aber verstehen Ich versuche nur zu helfen, hier in der Gegend."_ (Love/Darling, what I do for a living is slightly sickening. I worry about you. But understand I am only trying to help around here.) Madison felt nervousness sink in through her haze.

"_Ich hoffe, Sie verstehen_." He cleared his throat _"Ich bin ein Arzt für diese armen Menschen_." (I hope you understand. I am a doctor for these poor people.) Madison nodded as the signal in a tower flashed a light and the gates opened up to let the car slip through.

Madison watched out the window as the car pulled through the camp, people, dressed in old clothes that dripped off the skin were doing hard labor, and carrying baskets of things that Madison couldn't see. They looked at the car in an almost alien fashion as it passed them, their faces all either solemn or filled with longing. One guard in a uniform dragged a woman who was crying into an empty area and Madison watched horrified as he shot her in the head. Madison knew she let out a shrill shriek when the woman hit the ground dead, "_Vater_!" She screamed grabbing his arm and pointing to the corpse, tears started to leak out of her eyes.

"_W-was? Was?! W-w-welche? A-Ah_-" (W-What? What?! T-t-that? A-Ah-) Madison stuttered her brain trying to refuse what she was seeing.

Her father looked over at his daughter with sympathy, "_Dies ist, was ich euch von der Liebe zu schützen versucht. Das ist die Wahrheit der Menschheit. Sie schieben sich gegenseitig über und klettern auf der jeweils anderen um die Macht. Es ist widerlich. Schauen Sie!" (This is what I tried to protect you from love. This is the truth of human kind. They push each other over and climb on top of each other for power. It is disgusting. Look!) _He leaned across her and pointed a finger at a man holding a wheelbarrow stacked with bodies of the dead.

"_Das heißt, wo sie am Ende am Ende des Tages. Entweder am oberen oder unteren Ende der kontinuierlichen Wanderung um die Macht."_ (That is where they end up at the end of the day. Either at the top or the bottom of the continuous trek for power.)

"Vater!" Madison cried, "_Man kann nicht daran glauben_!" (You cannot believe in this!)

Doktor Schmidt gestured around him, "_Deshalb bin ich der Arzt bin. Ich allein kann nicht aufhören, die Deutschen. Aber ich kann Ihnen helfen."_ (That is why I am the doctor. I alone cannot stop the Germans, but I can help.)

Madison let her tears flow freely down her face, which was red and snotty from the racking sobs throughout her frame. But she listened to her Father, and what he said made sense. "_Darf ich das Gebäude arbeiten Sie in?_" (May I see the building you work in?) She wrapped her arms around her in comfort, how horrible this hell was. Madison wanted to help them, but she also knew that she wanted to see the building her father worked. If he was the Doctor then she wanted to see the sick first. She wanted to see the poor people her father healed.

Doktor Schmidt hesitated, "_Sind Sie sicher? Das ist alles eher -Dies ist ein viel zu nehmen_." (Are you sure about this? This is all rather stressful-this is a lot to take in.)

"_Vater, Vater, ich will die kranken Menschen zu sehen_." (Father I want to see the sick people.) Madison said stubbornly, she wanted the experience though it may kill her. Doktor Schmidt pretended to think it over, the sick were killed, the wounded were usually killed or taken to the labs for he, himself, to experiment on… But on the other hand all of the experiments where warded off and you usually couldn't see them through thick metal doors.

_"Madison. Meine Patienten sind krank mit tödlichen Viren. Sie werden sich für jede menschliche Berührung versiegelt. Du wirst sie nicht sehen."_ (Madison. My patients are sick with deadly viruses. They are sealed off for any human contact. You will not see them.) He tried to dissuade her. But Madison stuck her chin out and gave her father a level glare through her eyes, and finally her father sighed.

He could say no, in spite her, but he was opting for her trust.

"_Ja. Nur wenn Sie in meinem Büro bleiben." (_Yes. Only if you stay in my office.)

"Ja." Madison echoed a little dejected, but she hoped for a glimpse of one of the victims of this awful camp, not to laugh at them-she just wanted to see what her father did for a living.

They pulled up to a brick building that looked a little worse for wear with a muddy street and gates, before the gravel switched mud Doktor Schmidt parked his car. The father daughter duo stepped out and he took her hand firmly and guided the sober ten years old through the doors. He led her hallway after hallway, passing guards and solid iron doors. Doktor Schmidt nodded respectfully at the guards with guns. While Madison stared with a mixture of horror and hate, these men had probably taken lives. _Lives_.

Madison swallowed drily and she couldn't help but wonder whatever had possessed her to drink, she could feel the sting of alcohol and acid creeping up the back of her throat. Doktor Schmidt led her past many metal doors with handles and a guard stationed at each end of the hallway. Madison could hear pleas and begs for mercy muted within; Doktor Schmidt wrapped an hand around her elbow. "Come with me, Madison" He murmured in English, "Come with me." He muttered again.

'_He doesn't want the guards to know what we are saying,' _Madison thought confused. '_Why?'_

"My office is up here," Doktor Schmidt led her past many prisoning cells; '_This is a slaughterhouse.' _Madison screamed in her mind, "Father," She whispered back in English, "You…help this Jew people?"

Doktor Schmidt frowned at her, "You must work on your English, Madison" he tutted and pushed his glasses up his nose. "_These, Jewish." _He corrected.

"Sorry." Madison looked at the ground ashamed, her lessons would increase. Madison noticed a wooden door with an oddly fashioned plastic handle even the hinges were plastic. Right next to it, another wooden door, with a brass handle, Doktor Schmidt pointed to the door with the brass handle, "That is my office."

"Vater, _Warum ist die Tür Kunststoff?" (Why was that door plastic?) _Madison asked as the door shut behind her, she observed the laboratory in his office filled with saws and other medical supplies, scalpels, scissors, twine.

Doktor Schmidt played innocent, "_Welche Tür, Liebe_?" (What door, Darling?)

Madison furrowed her brow; surely her father knew what she was talking about, right? What other door had plastic hinges?

"_Die Tür, die wir durch gegangen_-" (The door we past on the way-)

The door opened to another guard, "_Bitte. Ein Patient muss Sie sehen, ist es dringend._" (Sorry for interrupting. A patient needs to see you, it is urgent.) The guard explained, standing straight up.

Doktor Schmidt glared at the guard, "_Vater! Darf ich auch gehen_?" (Father! May I go too?) Madison asked elated, her father was such a saint! He helped these poor Germans, smuggling behind the backs of these war-mongers! Her father was so brave, she sighed happily.

"_Nein, es ist zu gefährlich. Einige dieser Patienten gestört_…. " (No. It is too dangerous. Some of these patients are deranged…) Her Father leant down to her height and whispered in her ear, _"Ich will dich nicht verletzen_." (I do not wish for you to get hurt.) He patted her shoulder, Madison huffed angrily, and she'd never see one of her Father's patients would she? An idea formed in her mind as she grinned slyly, she was nifty at breaking into things.

"Ja, Vater." She agreed, "_Ich werde bleiben." _(Yes, Father. I will stay here.) Madison crossed her fingers as Doktor Schmidt nodded his head and walked out of his office. Madison counted to twenty in her head, and slipped out the door into the hallway. She looked around for any guards and saw none, then she hurried over to the plastic door and stood on her tiptoes trying to see through the peephole, but Madison was too short. Madison heard the footsteps of a passing guard, panicking she jiggled the knob and to her relief it was not locked. She slipped inside, and pressed her ear to the door.

"Wer bist du?" (Who are you?) A young male voice said behind her, Madison gasped and turned around, she hadn't realized she was in company. "Ich heiße Madison."

"Irisch?" (Irish?) Madison peered at the young boy under the lights; he was about her age, with dark sandy hair and cool steel blue eyes that swam with an undeniable emotion. But what was odd was that he was strapped in leather down to a wooden table, his lean chest bare and he wore dirty trousers. His head was picked up to look at her. You could count each frail rib and his stomach caved in and met narrow hipbones.

"Ja, _Meine Mutter war Irisch."_ (Yes, my mother was Irish.) She murmured on a reflex, everyone she had met had asked. She peered over the various scars that marked his body. _"Die Deutschen getan haben für Sie?" (_Have the Germans done this too you?) She spat out of her mouth. The boy looked a little confused, "Ja," He murmured he starred at her as if he had never seen such a creature.

Madison huffed and slinked her way over to the table, "_Möchten Sie sie ausziehen?" (_Would you like me to take them off?) She was rewarded with a small grin; his steel eyes softened a bit, "Freuen." (Please.) He murmured and Madison got to pulling off the thick leather buckles, "Sie haben dich gefoltert." (They have tortured you.) She muttered ashamed, for once, to even call herself German. This was inhumane.

He sat up rubbing his wrists, "Erik."

"Was?" (What?) Madison looked up distracted from freeing up his legs.

The boy smirked_," Mein Name ist Erik Lehnsherr." _(My name is Erik Lehnsherr.)

Madison flushed in embarrassment, "Ah-Ja. Danke." (Ah-Yes. Thank you.) Madison stood up watching as Erik swung his long lanky legs over the side of the bed and stood up, "Nein, Danke." (No, Thank you.) Erik moved swiftly over to the door and yanked it open, Madison's eyes widened, "Was machst du?!" (What are you doing?!) Erik crept out in the hallway, "Flucht!" (Escaping) He hissed back at her, Madison bustled out right after him watching him scurry down the hall.

"_Ich werde so viel Ärger bekommen_." (I am going to get in so much trouble.) She rolled her eyes and followed him.

"Erik!" She whispered called as he pulled her into a wall to keep hidden from the guard, He met her eyes once. "_Bitte kommen Sie mit, Sagen Sie mir Ihre Geschichte_." (Come with me, tell me your story.) He alleged, "_Bitte kommen Sie mit_," (Come with me,)

Madison looked at him hard, give up everything she knew and loved for a guy she freed from a strapped table? While she had decided to hate the Germans-she couldn't just leave her father. But Madison was spared from answering when Erik yanked her down another empty hallway.

Together they slowly hid and crept to the outside. Erik took off running practically dragging Madison through the mud with him to a tall fence, Erik cursed looking for something along the soppy mud. "_Es ist hier. Ich weiß, es ist!"_ (It is here. I know it is!) He muttered terrified to himself.

In the facility, Doktor Schmidt came back to his office to find the door opened his daughter nowhere to be found. He cursed and kicked a chair across the room, he remembered her commenting about the plastic door that held little Erik Lehnsherr.

"_Scheiß_." (Shit.) Doktor Schmidt kicked the plastic cell open to find it void of his precious patient, the leather and plastic straps that once held him back swinging idly empty of Erik. "_Der Alarm_. " (The alarm) He looked back at the two guards that flanked him, "_Alarm schlagen_!" (Sound the alarm!)

In the distance Madison heard the alarm sound, Erik's head jerked up, "_Kommen Sie!"_ (Com'on!)

He dragged her a little farther when he found a few bushes, "Ja!" (Yes!) He mumbled under his breath happily. "_Ein alter Zellengenossen sagte mir, dies hier war_." (An old cellmate told me this was here.) Erik explained happily to Madison's confused face. _"Ich habe nicht die Chance, tatsächlich um das Lager suchen Sie nach einem Loch im Zaun._" (I did not exactly get the chance to look around for a hole in the fence.)

Erik felt the brushed aside the leaves to reveal a small burrow in the fence, he climbed down on his belly and shimmered his way out to the other side. He stood up on the other side and shot a grin in Madison's direction. But upon quickly noticing her stare he became quiet, "_Bitte kommen Sie mit_." _Come with me. _

Come?

Leave the swine's and the pigs to themselves? Perhaps make the difference in one man's-boy's life?

If she went, never would she have to be suffocated by manners and fake politeness again. Now that she knew the _truth. _Tears silently rolled down her face, "_Nein, ich kann nicht_" (No, I cannot.) Erik's face fell; he gripped the wire of the fence. _ 214782. _She committed it to memory.

She would give up her grieving father, if she went; she would have to deal with days alone with a strange boy she hardly knew. If she stayed she could make the difference, maybe, in others' lives in this hell. This "camp." She would remain, as he would go on.

"_Was ist Ihr voller name, Madison? Ich verspreche, Sie zu finden. Ich verspreche, Ihnen zu helfen, wie Sie mir geholfen haben."_ (What is your full name, Madison? I promise to help you, find you. As you have helped me.) He looked into her eyes, shadows dancing over his face.

"_Schmidt. Mein Nachname ist Schmidt_." (Schmidt. My last name is Schmidt.) She smiled a little bit, and Erik let go of the fence, almost in complete revulsion. They were interrupted by guards shouting to one another and a bright light suddenly brushed over the yard, sweeping for the two escapees.

"Gehen." (Go.) She whispered fiercely, Erik spared her one last glance as he turned away, it was filled with something she could not describe-yet it was close to a mixture of mirth and admiration.

"_Es ist Herr Doktor Schmidt, der dies getan hat, zu mir._" (It was the 'gentleman/sir' Doktor Schmidt that has done this, to me.) Erik watched as her face wilted to horror. Then Erik turned and melted into the shadows.

"_W-Was?"_ (W-What?) "_Erik!" _Madison hissed into the dark as her fingers curled around the fence wires, "_Erik! Zurückkommen!" (_Erik! Come back!) But he never answered, Erik had vanished, like smoke.

Suddenly the bright light found her, and pinned her feet to her shoes. She shook in her skin, were they going to kill her? Torture her? Like they had done to Erik? She was surrounded by guns and weapons, she shut her eyes tightly and perspiration dripped down her face._ I am going to die. _

"_Nicht schießen! Nicht schießen_!" (Don't shoot! Don't shoot!) Her father ran out in a lab coat and glasses askew.

He shoved through the crowds to get to her, He grabbed her shoulders and shook her, "Wo ist er?! " (Where is he?!) Madison looked into her father's cold and frantic eyes, his grip on her clutched around her skinny shoulders in a vice grip, she winced as she felt the pain. She would have bruises. Was this the true face of her father? The man she had loved all these years? Could he have done this-to an innocent soul?

"Weg…weg." (Gone…gone.) She spoke, tears rolling down her face. She was broken; it was as if her life-her-entire-_fucking-_life was one big _fucking _lie. She was angry, she was _pissed. _How. How. _How?! _

She could see it now, how he had deceived her- made her believe he was doing well. It was just too damn _good _to be true. Fuck. _Fuck. _Who would suspect her _father? _Capable of such evil?

Maybe the boy was wrong. Maybe he lied, she doubted herself.

But then how would he have known her father was a Doktor?

Maybe he had heard it from the guard-or her father-his cell was next to his office.

Yeah. Maybe.

But why was he strapped down to the table in the first place? Why had he looked at her strangely when she had asked if Germans had done this?

Why did she pretend she was better then them when her blood was also tainted from ignorance?

But she had not actually done anything.

Yet she had not _seen _it either.

"_Lügner_." (Liar.) She whispered, fully knowing her father had heard. "_Lügner!" _

Her father's face became soothingly calm, he sighed out his nose and gripped her arm.

"_Wenn Sie ein Jude so schlecht sein wollte alles, was Sie tun musste, war zu fragen_." (If you wanted to be one of the Jews so badly all you had to do was ask.) Madison looked up at her father confused.

"Was?" (What?) She frowned up at her father, confused. His grip on her arm bruised her, he pulled her through the camp to a bunch of guards who had remained at their stations, "_Gestehen sie. Sie will wissen, wie ihr Leben aussieht? Dann ließ sie leben." (_Admit her. She wants to know what their life is like? Then let her live it_.)_He pushed her into the hands of the guards uncaring.

"V-_Vater_?" Madison said-her situation not really sinking in. "_Was meinst du_?" (What do you mean?)

Two guards grabbed her arms and started to drag her away.

"_Vater_?" Madison panicked, "_Vater_!"

Doktor Schmidt smiled, his eyes crinkling kindly, "_Es ist nur zu deinem Besten, Liebe_" (It is for your own good, darling.) He tutted and shook his head, "Z_u freundlich! Sie sind zu freundlich. Ich weiß jetzt, meine Pläne auf Sie verschwendet werden. Die Wahrheit ist vielleicht haben Sie wieder zu mir kommen. Dieser Weg ist notwendig." (_Too kind! You are too kind. I know now my plans are wasted on you. The truth may have you come back to me. This way is necessary, love.) Doktor Schmidt shook his head as his daughter thrashed and screamed, she had cost him his favorite test subject. For that she needed to be properly punished.

And maybe taught a lesson or two.

Hadn't he taught his daughter the right way?

Either way, she would come back to him. he was sure of it.

* * *

English next chapter-I swear!

It may be a little shaky-I don't know much german, I know few sentences. So I relied heavily on Google translate. Why put so much effort in?

Made me feel dedicated.

Next time it will be in 1966,

Please leave a comment-

Till then,

-Masked


	3. Meet Ivy

Chapter Three

United States, 1962

Ivy stretched and sighed as she awoke to her dark room, she was a nocturnal creature. Keeping to the shadows due to her recognizable skin, Ivy shook her head clear of the thoughts. One day, one day she would rise and avenge her name.

One day,

Ivy scowled, yeah right. If she could find someone who could get past her skin, she would marry them. She rolled up her sleeve, _179357, _it was permanently on her skin, like paint. Yet she wouldn't take it off-go to a tattoo artist, cause then she would have a scar to remind her that she wasn't even strong enough to bear a mark.

She was not a Jew.

She was not a criminal or prisoner of war.

She was not any part of a political office.

She was not a homosexual.

She was not even one of those who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Yet she had lived through it.

She shouldn't be called a survivor.

She was there because _her father put her there._

_The definition of an asshole._

Ivy looked in the mirror wrapped in vines, how she had changed indeed. Her skin was pigmented with green, like a faint color of rose vines. Her hair a bright cherry red and hung in thick curls down her back. She ran her hands through the tangled hair, "Lookin' like a rose, love," She whispered, painting her lips a red that matched her hair. Bright green eyes blinked back in the mirror. She turned to look at her backside in the mirror, slim shoulders had replaced strong and sturdy ones, near her arse, a slim, green tail wriggled as if it had a mind of its own. "More of a monster." She sighed out.

Ivy had some pride to her look, she was different that was for sure. But her looks forced her into a single way of life, confided her to keep moving or perhaps she'd get caught. Besides, what human could ever love her? A green-eyed monster with hair as red as blood? Sure, Ivy had men come up to her the past with extremely low lighting and hit on her, but they were always drunk. And when some of the men had caught a glimpse of her skin? They ran.

But apparently in low lighting she looked very seductive.

If only she had normal skin, she could even deal with the abnormal tail-she could wrap it around her like a belt she had done in most cases.

Ivy's skin would always have its green pigment but sometimes, when she was sick she'd go really green. Like wicked-witch-of-the-west green, instead of the soft green glow she had now.

She started with her foundation and built up till it seem like she had a normal skin tone, a light sheen of green still was visible but in the low lights of the night, you could not recognize a thing. She smiled at her reflection, and then stuck out her tongue, "You look like you are sick!"

Ivy wrapped up her hair around her head, minding to cover up her neck and ears; she wrapped a long yellow scarf around her neck and slipped on a red long sleeved dress that stretched past her knees. Ivy slipped on tan tights and pulled on small yellow high heels. She smiled, and blew a kiss, then frowned, wincing as she wrapped her tail out through an opening in her back and slicked it around the front.

"Yes That works." She stated sarcastically. Yellow, red, and light green.

Then Ivy looked down at the rose metal bracelet she wore, she had shaped it into a stemming rose after she had received it from a long friend. It was supposed to protect her from Telepaths-though Ivy never knew if it worked actually she assumed it did because her father had not found her as of yet.

Ivy's apartment was filled up to the brim with plants, hanging plants screwed into the ceiling, plants draped on the walls, potted trees in the corner. Even in the bathroom and the kitchen moss inched its way over the counters.

Ivy loved the earth. She loved her apartment, this was her safe haven in a world of city.

Ivy left her apartment and locked the door behind her, whistling she made her way down the stairs, and walked down a couple of lonely blocks to work.

…

Oxford England, 1962

Charles Xavier would do anything to help fellow mutants like him. They were unique, evolved from evolution-something of which still blew his mind. How could a tiny spark of life spring a whole race of intellectual Homo Sapiens?

He really didn't know how such a miracle could erupt-but what he _did_ know that there was a lone lady in a corner of the bar practically begging for his attention.

He grinned at gorgeous girl next to him, with one blue eye, one green eye, "Heterochromia," He said as he sauntered up to the woman.

"A gentlemen would have at least bought me a drink first," She sneered a little and ignored him, great, another brainless guy trying to impress her. Another who pointed out her strange eyes, most people would try their best to ignore they were never there.

But he knew she had wanted a brandy, which was what got her attention. He had 'guessed.' She was impressed, she never knew she looked like a brandy sort of woman. He introduced himself as Charles Xavier, and she, Amy.

"Heterocromia was in reference to your eyes which I have to say are stunning, one green, one blue, it is a mutation-a very _groovy _mutation_._" He smirked coly. "I have news for you baby, you- are a mutant."

"First you proposition a girl, and then you call her deformed. How does that seduction technique work for you?"

"I'll tell you in the morning," He shot back with a smug grin. They chuckled and she shook her head at his arrogance.

"No, no seriously though-"Charles said leaning in with a grin, "-Mutations has come from single celled organisms to _thee_ predominant reproductive form of organisms on this planet- Infinite forms of variation, for each generation-all through mutation."

"Then let's reclaim that word." She smiled, lifting up her brandy for a toast "Mutant and proud." She took a swig of her brandy.

A woman approached the couple, "I guess I have to buy my own drink." A woman with blond hair stated, hand son her hips as she starred at Charles.

"Charles here was just telling me that I am like one of those first sea creatures that grew legs." She told the woman in a laughing undertone.

"Tiny bit sexier." He pinched, "I'm sorry," He motioned to the blond girl. "This is my sister, Raven."

"Hi Amy," Raven shook her hand albeit awkwardly.

"What are studying?" Amy asked looking interested. If she was anything like her brother she surely must be charming.

"Waitressing."

"Ah-" Amy looked into her eyes, noticing one was a different color then the other. One was a soft blue the other was a brilliant yellow, "Oh look-you have heterochromia too!"

Charles looked over, "Wait-what?"

"Well, look at her eye," Amy replied.

Charles stiffened "Right. Raven go get your coat please." He slapped money down on the table angrily. His night-date with the woman, foiled.

Outside the bar Charles was very upset, "Don't talk to me-"He said heatedly "-You did that on purpose."

"I did _not. _Why would I do it on purpose? You know I can't control it sometimes, when I'm stressed or when I'm tired." She snapped at her adoptive brother.

Charles looked over into her eyes, "You're doing a perfectly good job right now."

"Mutant and proud. At least it goes for pretty mutations or invisible ones like yours. But if you're a freak you better hide." Raven was very angry, Charles had agreed with hiding herself in public. She was starting to get sick with it, sick of hiding. Mutant and _proud_? Mutant and PROUD? How could he say that when Raven had to hid who she _was _ all day long? How was it _fair?_

"You are being _ridiculous. _Look," He turned towards her, "I don't mean to sound like an old fart-" "Which you are." Raven interrupted.

"Sometimes. Look, we've talked about this, Raven. It's mostly just one thing, a big one does not bear thinking about. "

Raven just starred.

How could he?

"You are beautiful baby!" A guy called out to Ivy, as she strutted across stage, music clutched in her hands. "Absolutely hot!" The guys made kisses and cat calls.

"Why did I agree to play at a gentleman's club again?" Ivy muttered to herself as she set up her music on the piano, ah, that's right, her friend's had referred her to the owner. She nodded to the two other people, a saxophone and a guitarist. They started out with a nice slow seduction piece that grew faster and faster as time went on.

For even a bit of it Ivy sang some rough rock and roll verses that climaxed near the end of the song. The beat was heavy and very loud and it reverberated off the walls. Ivy sighed, while she loved music she hated this loud beat, she was a jazzy sort of person. One to go for the more classic approach.

Finally, after two hours, it was over, Ivy could leave. She swished backstage to gather her things when she noticed two of her friends walked in, "Stacy, Angel," She murmured her greeting pausing in her footsteps.

"Ivy!" Stace smirked, "How are you doing?" She purred.

"Quite well, I made a good bit tonight…Considering they were flinging cash at me." She nodded enthusiastically. Angel perched herself on a red velvet chair, Ivy had always admired her tattoos; they were very delicate and detailed. Stacy had tattoos as well, but it was a star on her inner thigh-which she loved to flash to _everyone._ Even casual friends.

"Nice job," Angel smiled over, reaching for a nail file, "I almost fell over when you hit that high soprano-scream-whatever- though."

Ivy notched a brow, "And we wouldn't want that to happen now would we?" Angel sent her a mini glare, "Are you guys off for the night?" Ivy asked ignoring the stare, "I didn't mean it _that _way, sweet pea" Ivy groaned.

"Yeah, we both are-" Stacy leaned her long body over the back of a table, "But I'm staying here, I'm going to go help out at the bar-see if I get a few extra bucks. Catch ya'll later." She waked out leaving Angel and Ivy alone.

"Wanna get a drink?" Angel smiled over at the singer, "Yeah. I'd love one."

That's how Ivy found herself, piss drunk outside the bar near her home, with Angel puking in the streets. Ivy laughed as she supported Angel, "My place…..ist _Zuhuaseeee_.."

_"Whaa?" _ Angel peered over from her crotched position, "Haha, we arru fuckinnn' _wasted."_ Ivy laughed, "My house….here." She stopped in front of the building and swayed putting a hand on the wall.

"If yuuu wanttichhh_ yo _can crashhh." Angel was near collapsing, but nodded her head sickly, afraid of the Alcohol boiling up her throat.

They duo finally got to her apartment and episodes of falling up the stairs, Ivy leaned against the door. She laughed against the wood as she slid down to sit on the floor. Angel swayed and eventually did too.

"I havvee-_ugh-_ greeeen skinuush." Ivy confessed, Angel looked over, "How'v waste' areee yuu?"

Ivy giggled uncontrollably, "Very." Angel smiled, "So whatts we do now?" Ivy grinned an evil (drunk) smile, "I have spray paint."

Ivy awoke the next morning all through her complex were red, blue, and green blotches covering her walls, furniture, and the hallway. But Ivy could not really bring herself to care through her pulsating migraine. She was also half naked-her tights and shoes were gone and nowhere to be seen exposing the long and green legs of the wicked witch.

Ivy sighed to herself; well she really messed up the place didn't she? She covered her eyes with an arm and groaned, "Shit_, ah." _The door of her bathroom opened to reveal Angel, Ivy looked up at her form which was slightly pale and sweating,

"_Guten_ _Tag_-question-Was the world always this bright?" Ivy asked her friend jokingly, and Angel gave out a half-heart chuckle and slumped against the couch. And stuffed her face into a pillow.

"I woke up with spaghetti in my hair and glitter on my face-I used your shower." Angel's voiced from behind the pillow. Angel paused and looked over at her sick friend, "I'm surprised I didn't puke-oh-and I congratulate you-you have more cosmetics then anybody I've ever _seen." _

That is when Angel noticed something was just plain _off_. "Hey, are you feeling okay?" Ivy looked over at her and gave her a playful glare, "I have a freaking hangover. What do you think?"

"Honey, hangovers don't do _that." _Angel pointed at Ivy's emerald legs.

Ivy looked down at her skin, "S-shit." She looked up Angel, "I have a s-skin disease that causes me…to…uhm-have green legs-a-and I use make-up to cover it up?" Ivy put her head in her hands, how was she going to explain this?

Angel stood up with a stiff expression, staring at Ivy's face, "I know," She smiled softly.

Ivy's head jerked up "Huh?"

Angel took off her shirt and turned around, Ivy watched, entranced, as her tattoos moved off her body and solidify into pixie-like wings. Ivy stood up shakily, her body protested but she ignored the ache in her bones.

Ivy ran her slim green hand over one of the wings, "Amazing," She murmured, Angel turned around and gave her a half smile. "How long?" She asked,

"What?" Ivy looked up into her eyes.

"How long have you had your-uh..?"

Ivy smiled in understanding, "It is a mutation, flower, and Human kind is evolving into greater and better things. Think of it, as a stretch along your horizons." Ivy looked down at her skin, "Unlike me, my skin grows even more green when I am skin-paler when I'm happy." She laughed a bit, "It's like a mood ring."

Angel fluttered her wings a bit, "Mm, That sucks."

Ivy shook her head, and gave her a sly look, "But it comes with something awesome, look," Ivy stretched her hand to a plant in the windowsill, she drew the hand to her chest and some dirt and the plant extended, like a vine and wrapped around her wrist.

"Hence the name Ivy." She finished looking over at her friend, "But you can fly, wicked cool." She smirked.

"Yeah, and…uhm-" Angel looked at some beer bottles on the ground and pursed her lips together and spat at one, which melted under her acid.

Ivy looked at her impressed, "Well I know I'm protected around you," She winked, then frowned and grew a little shad greener. "You can make coffee or tea or something-I think I'm going to be sick." Ivy rushed to the bathroom hand on her stomach.

Angel smiled, _she wasn't alone._ Angel never thought much about her 'mutation'-she couldn't decide if she liked the word or not, it meant deformed after all-she was always…busy. Trying to survive in the world, but at least she wasn't on the streets. Her nose crinkled as she heard Ivy vomit, Angel made her way to the tiny kitchen and poured herself some water. Then she rummaged the cupboards for aspirin. She found a bottle and swigged it down with the water. She sipped as she waited for Ivy, so now what? Angel had first met Ivy when she offered her services at the gentlemen's club, less than three months ago.

So Angel and Ivy weren't that close, and from what Angel knew, Ivy traveled a _lot_. A traveling musician, she snorted, cliché.

But what happened now?

How did Ivy know that this-power thing-was a mutation?

Ivy came shaking and dark green from the bathroom; she turned on a black kettle and poured water in it. "Tea?" Ivy asked, ignoring Angel's piercing stare.

"Who are you?" Ivy ignored the question, "I was never a big coffee drinker myself, though I like the caffeine."

Angel grabbed her hand reaching for the boiling kettle, she rotated Ivy's arms to see her numbers-_179357, _Angel looked up and shook her, "You were in the war-""_Yes_, I was in the war. I'm not going to talk about it."

Angel nodded understanding, "I get it-but how did you know there was other….?"

"Mutants?" Ivy said sourly and Angel flinched. "That sounds like a insult-" "It's not, be damn proud of what you are." Ivy gave her a hard stare, "And I knew others existed when I shot my father." Angels eyebrow shot up, "It bounced off his skin like it was a hunk of stainless steel instead of flesh."

"You tried to shoot _your father?" _

"Yes, He's an asshole. Let's leave it at that." Ivy smirked at Angels disbelieving laugh, "Uhm-Are you some pycho-or terrorist or something?"

It was Ivy's turn to raise a brow, "You're asking me that _now?" _The girls gazed at each other for a short moment, and then laughed, "But seriously," Angel said between gaffs, "Why did you try killing your dad?"

"He was a Doctor at a concentration camp, he experimented on people. I thought it was sick and aided a prisoner to escape-He put me in the camp for my doing." Ivy explains, leaning idly against the counter. "I slipped out one night, my mutation then had started to manifest-and stole a gun, in my mind I had reached that one death-could equal a thousand lives." Ivy sighed and looked at her hand, "I tried to pretend he was not my father, and I shot him. But…obviously…It didn't work-I used my mutation to run. And have been running for a long time."

He had found her once, using a Telepath, Emma Frost- to find her, she escaped narrowly with a few bumps and bruises. But she had escaped. Then she looked for something to block telepaths with-she found it in Soviet Union, Russia. Scientists gave it to her, and she had never seen her father after that.

But she still kept running.

Her father was a monster who wanted to use her mutation.

His own daughter.

How could he? Ivy's head whispered to her; how could he?

Very easily, another, darker part told her, very easily.

"Ivy?" Angel's voice called out to her from her trance, "Sorry," She muttered and rubbed her temples in hopes to relieve her headache. "I have no idea how I'm going to explain the landlord this mess." She gestured around, "But on the light side…Dark side? ...We can have a hell'va party!"

The girl's smirked, "So when did you realize your mutation?" Ivy asked, "I noticed that tattoos one day with a fight with my father, I got in so much trouble after they realized. Once I found out what they _did_ I was kicked out of the house-'partment-and left on the streets. I first noticed my acid saliva kissing a guy, which did not go pretty." She grimaced at the memory. Ivy winced in sympathy, "I can guess why."

Angel looked over at her, "So are you working tonight?" It was Ivy's turn to grimace, "Yeah I am, got a gig down in Shimmer Hotel's gardens, they want jazz, so I'm pretty excited about that."

"Oh," Angel looked disappointed, "I was hoping to grab a bite to eat or something an talk more about-"She gestured to herself and ivy, "…This."

Ivy laughed, "Are you asking me out on a date, Angel?"

Angel laughed to, "Yep. Totally, but I know I'm irresistible." She winked "No, sorry. Don't swing that way love." Ivy smirked, Angel was straight-they were just fooling around.

"You know we actually get a few girls once in a while, at the gentleman's club."

Ivy smiled, "I'm glad some have the courage, there's so much sexism nowadays. It's disgusting" Ivy put a some tea leaved in a boiling cup and sipped.

"Sexism? I see it as homosexual discrimination-" "We had homosexual's at the camps, anyone who can go through that hell and survive deserves g-d's blessing-though most who came out are atheist's." Ivy took another sip of her tea, "I really don't blame them. I can see where they are coming from actually. " She looked up the ceiling,

"Ugh. You're one of those really religious types?"

Ivy frowned, "I'm not quite sure what you mean- It was my candle in my world of shadow once," she confessed, treading soft grounds. "And it will remain."

**(A/N I do not mean to offend anyone religious or homosexual, I support both- but I realized these issues were starting to develop during this period so they had to be much talked about-no? Once again, I DID NOT MEAN TO OFFEND.) **

"Not really." Angel replied, "I lost my faith when I lost my home." Ivy smiled sadly. "It happens, love. But understand, there's a long way between faith and hate."

Angel looked over, "Don't rub your religion in my face. I hate it when people do that."

"I wasn't." Ivy frowned, "I don't do that. I never have, people acting on opinions leads to war." She pointed to herself, "Pacifist."

Angel scoffed, "And suddenly everything makes sense." Then she revealed a small grin, "I've got to go and waitress this afternoon. She grabbed her flung coat that hung limply over the couch, "You can take care of…this?" She waved around to the trashed room.

Ivy shot her a grin "I'll be okay," and she raised her hands, the plants wriggled to life, "I have help."

Angel smiled, waved goodbye and walked out the door.

Ivy sighed, grabbed a bunch of cleaning supplies and got to work.

…

Argentina, 1962

Erik Lehnsherr had walked out of the bank satisfied.

Villa Gesell, Argentina.

He was so close now he could smell his victory.

Finally, after long conquest his work was slowly beginning to pay off sweetly. After _years _of tracking Shaw-he would have his victory under his tongue. Shaw's death would mark the rebirth of his new life-what would he do? A gift such as his shouldn't be hidden, shouldn't be shunned from the world.

He was a mutant, as told by his creator. His mutation had control of small things like _watches, _buttons_, _and_ guns._

He loved it; practically everything in 1962 was made of _metal_. It gave him power, simply. It gave him the means to seek out his revenge.

He walked into the inn's bar, it was practically empty exempt from two men and the bartender. "Tarde caballeros," (Afternoon Gentlemen,) He greeted. Shaw was here, or had been. The bank teller wouldn't lie about that.

But where was he now?

"Hace calor ahí fuera" (hot out there.) Erik sat at the bar, "Si,"

"Cerveza, por favor" (Beer please) Erik said offhandly, He looked around the place and his eyes were drawn to three men on a boat, In the middle, was Shaw. _Caspartina_, Miami.

"Deutsch Bier,"(German beer) Erik commented not really surprised, in German. "por supuesto," (Of course.)

"Es ist Bitburger. Gefällt es dir?" (It is Bitburger. You like it?) One of the men laughed.

Erik scoffed and shook his head. "Der beste." (The best.)

"Was führt Sie nach Argentinien?" (What brings you too Argentina?)

"Das Klima. Ich bin ein Schweinezüchter." (The climate. I am a pig farmer.) The man who had spoken said. He had sandy hair that was receding and a tan pocket shirt, a fist of beer in his hands.

"Tailor. Da ich ein Junge war." (Tailor. Since I was a boy.) His company was darker haired with a dress shirt and a vest on, he had a cigarette in one hand and his fist of beer placed on the table. "Mein Vater hat die feinsten Anzüge in Düsseldorf" (My father made the finest suits in Dusseldorf.)

"Meine Eltern waren aus Düsseldorf." (My parents were from Dusseldorf.) Erik exclaimed in false surprise, set them up, lure them out-then knock'em dead.

"Was ist ihr Name?" (What is their name?)

"Sie hatten nicht einen Namen." (They didn't have a name) Erik gritted. "Es wurde wegnehmen ..." (It was taken away from them) Erik lifted his glass to toast the two men, still carrying on his false smile. "By Schweinehalter" (By pigfarmers…)" ... und Schneider." (And tailors.) He toasted them both and sat back in his seat with a smirk, he lifted his glass to drink- watching the two men calmly, as they sweated bullets.

Erik flipped his wrist over, _214782, "Blut und Ehre" _Heglowered_" die sollten Sie sich kümmern, um erste vergießen?" (Blood and Honor. Which would you care to share first?)_

_"Wir folgten Aufträge" _(We were following orders) The pig farmer hissed.

"Blut dann" (Blood then) Erik stabbed the pig farmers hand, and he cried out in pain. Masochism was written all over his face and she almost bathed in his pain. The tailor gasped and pulled away from the table frightened, but he did no move to stop Erik.

"Congelar, imbécil!" The bartender shouted in spanish.

"Komm schon. Schießen" (Come on. Shoot) Erik almost growled, sensing the metal calling to him from the gun. He was attracted to it, like the air he breathed.

Slowly the bartender's gun pointed at the stunned tailor, without his finger on the lever the gun shot by itself. The tailor fell to the ground.

Then Erik drew the knife from the pig farmers hand threw it (with a little guiding) deep into the bartender's stomach. Then Erik called the knife back to him and re-stabbed the pig farmer's hand. Who was the real asshole? Not Erik. Who knows how many this one killed? Of his people? Of the Jews?

"Wer ... Was bist du?" (Who…What are you?)

"Let's just say I'm Frankenstein's monster." Erik got up and stared deep into the photo of Shaw, the pig farmer and the tailor. "And I'm looking for my creator."

* * *

Wo-hoh! That was longgg! I love ths story, it has my passion. Hopefully it's getting less awkward. I'll have the next chapter out soon,

How do you like Ivy?

She's a bundle of contradictions!

Please rate and review-how's the story going? What class sould Ivy be in? Cause if you think abou it, she has thepower of earth, yet everything man-made comes from the earth...

Or it could just be nature.

Leave cmmet

-Masked.


	4. Charles & Erik

_Chapter 4 _

I'm changing it to OC/? Because I'm undecided with this yet, but I can tell you she WON'T end up with Azazel, they are too much alike in looks.

Also, I KNOW I'm skipping parts in the movie, but I'm following the mutants, and main details.

Sorry for those fans, free hugs are given for shed tears. :)

* * *

_"Through the window pane-I see_

_Through the years and rain- I flee!_

_Run away, run away, run away, _

_-From the lies you say." _

_Ivy held her last note in the air in a highly eerie soprano voice._

It had rained good and hard before Ivy stepped outside the club that night. The dank smell of water hit her hard on the nose, and the outside the pilfered streets streamed with nightlife. This was the busiest time in the evening, when the sun had just sunk below the horizon, and in this city, this _life,_ never slept.

Ivy smiled out on the street, business had run good today, and she had collected $20, which in 1962 was a pretty good amount for one day. She hummed as she walked down the avenue; she was in such high spirits-nothing. _Nothing _could bring her down.

Not dirty puddles, not rich snobs, not her _skin. _This thankfully, was hardly green at all due to her radiating bliss. Ivy grasped her diamond shape tail which twitched every once in a while, it was pretty uncomfortable walking like this, and it was like your spinal cord-wrapped round and round your waist. But for Ivy it also gave her _terrible _balance. She figured it was this way because cats used their tails to walk straight, the weight and displacement, all the works. In fact, If someone lay a hand upon Ivy's shoulder hard-she'd probably topple over.

Ivy couldn't decide to be happy with her tail-or not. Her father had always taught her, as a young miss _never _to feel bad about the way she looked. To _always _be confident, even if she was faking it, Ivy could hear a whisper in her ear,

_It is better to be sure of yourself, for if you are not, Madison… Madison, listen to me. If you falter, for one second, then the sharks of the world will smell that. Then they would feast on your flesh, and probably laugh while doing it. _

Ivy had stuck to those words, burned into her mind- but she doubted then her father had talked about green skin and strange tails.

Yet on the other hand, in a twisted sense, her skin was the upmost unique. Ivy could place a bet that no one had skin like hers, that she be proud of that alone.

But she was so lonely.

So, so lonely.

Ivy supposed she could take on a lover in the dark-lure a drunk into her bed, but she knew it would not be satisfying to her; that a one night stands' pleasure might satisfy her need to be loved for an hour-utmost. But she knew it would not satisfy the craving, actually she knew herself so well that she'd probably regret the whole deceivement.

It would just prove that she was the monster she looked like.

No.

Ivy shook her head to herself, "I am unique" she murmured softly to herself.

"I'm _unique_."

* * *

Charles was drunk when he first met Agent Moira Mactaggert, drunk not only on alcohol, but on his achievement of finally reaching Professor. Though, he confessed he hated how "Professor Xavier" sounded. It made him sound like an old balding man who was cynical of the world.

That's why Charles drank now-and never put the rest up for discussion. Amy, the beautifully mutated eyes stood at the bar in a revealing red dress, Charles started to approach her with a giddy smile, Raven would not ruin his chance tonight-

"Congratulation's Professor." An attractive woman with brown locks and bright eyes stuck her hand out.

"Oh, thank you," He gestured to the long beer tube in his hands, "It's harder than it looks." He smiled, appreciating her curves.

"No, I meant your presentation." She corrected, nodding her head in a sweet way.

"Oh." Charles had for a reply taken aback, "You were at my presentation?" His heart warmed a bit, most people skipped the boring stuff and went for the party. They really did not care. "Thank you very much," He reached for her hand.

"Moira Mactaggert."

"Charles Xavier."

She had eventually gone on to explain (after Charles, albeit, slightly embarrassing advances on her) that the CIA had made the most disturbing discovery of mutants working against the United States.

Charles had sobered instantly upon seeing what delved in her mind, Sebastian Shaw, a red skinned mutant-a diamond woman and a man with along hair. Somehow the Colonel Henry had also traveled over three thousand miles in ten minutes.

Fabulous, simply amazing, a mutant _Teleporter_.

* * *

Miami, Florida

"Still drinking champagne Bob?" Sebastian Shaw offered, referring to their last encounter in the Hellfire club where Colonel Henry had drank, a large portion of his champagne.

"Thanks, I'll pass." The Colonel said, hiding his nervousness. Now his use was over on planting missles in Turkey, he had come to collect his amount. But with these supernatural beings, these…_mutants_ the Colonel wasn't sure to trust him. He slipped his hand in one pocket of his suit to make sure that his 'back-up' was still there.

"Well, so much for the pleasantries," Shaw bit with an inward smirk, his plan was in motion." I was wondering," He leant onto the table with ease, "Who you told about our little arrangement."

If he did tell anyone he would have to kill them too and perhaps give the Colonel a slow death for the grief of having to track that one down to kill them too.

"No one." Shaw looked at Emma for back up, "He's telling the truth."

"Good!" Shaw clapped excited, "Well I guess we are done here, let's wrap things up shall we?" He ordered with a nod, Riptide already knew to finish him off before hand-there was no way he was paying Colonel Henry for the defrayment of his country; it was a simple favor if it will.

Colonel Henry pulled out his safety, an army grenade, "Oh, I knew better then to trust _you." _He sneered. "Now you let me walk outta here, with my _money_, or I will pull this pin and we _all_ die."

Sebastian Shaw smirked and nodded, "Go ahead." He slowly started to walk towards the Colonel, which this reaction was not as he expected. He did not expect his confidence in the face ofdeath.

"I will do it-I swear t'G-d!"

Shaw just smirked at the Colonel Henry's trembling hands, "No you won't" He snatched the grenade out of his hands, "But I will." He pulled the pin and the grenade exploded, Shaw sucked in the power as it shot outwards-he absorbed it into his body using his full concentration.

"Y-You're one of them!" Colonel exclaimed indignantly, he felt a bit betrayed, this man he had worked with looked so human, he had originally thought that Shaw was just had the money to hire the mutants.

"Very good of you, Colonel. You want to guess what I can do?" Shaw smirked oily, "I've got the power to absorb energy-It keeps me up. But that's the boring part," He reached out a lone finger to Henry's chest, "It's what I'm able to _do _once I've got it_."_

Colonel Henry's body exploded upon impact for the energy in Shaw's fingers.

* * *

_CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia_

Charles Xavier had presented to a bunch of officials about mutation; his sister had been brought in to 'assist' him. But he needed her with him in case he needed more proof about mutation. Charles really didn't see how any normal human being could believe him without proof of developed mutation. _'For some proof is never needed, but for others there will never be enough.'_

"..People of extraordinary abilities may already be among us." Charles finished sitting down in the conference chair.

"Moira you really expect me to believe some crackpot scientist?" Moira's boss turned to her perplexed, not convinced in the slightest. Moira stood up, slightly offended but ready to defend her, "Sparkling dames and vanishing men?" He leaned in closer, ready to hit off to lecture her-he didn't like women in the CIA he believed that they should be at home or some other more…relaxed job, and here was his proof. "You just bought yourself a one way ticket back to the Typing books," He said dismissively. "This meeting's over."

"Please, sit down, Agent Mactaggert" Charles asked calmly, "I really didn't expect you to believe me since all you were thinking about during my presentation was what pie they would be serving in the refectory, " He paused, maybe this would convince them? "It's pecan." Judging by the placid faces, no, he aroused their suspicions though, "I haven't been entirely honest with you love, I'm sorry" He glanced at Moira, "You see, what my _mutation_ allows me to do is that I can read your mind."

"I've seen this at a magic show a while back-" An Agent smirked, "Are you going to have up pick a number between one and ten?" He scoffed in an amused manner.

"No," Charles grinned off, "I could ask you about your son, William, you were thinking about during my presentation, but I'd rather know about the missiles America is putting in Turkey. "

For a few seconds the conference room was silent, "You brought in a god-damn _spy!" _ Moira's advisor shouted, the meeting room in pandemonium. "You brought a god damn spy in!"

Soon everyone was shouting at one another, finally Raven stood up sick of it and she shifted into the form of the older agent, who had been commenting about the magic trick, then she shifted to her natural blue form state.

Needless to say the room was shocked into silence once again, Charles turned uneasily to the CIA officials, "How is that for a magic trick?" A plump man in the back was in awe, "Best I've ever seen," He smiled unsurely.

"I-I want them outta here-and locked down till I can decide what to do."

"I have a building off site," the Agent that had been in awe commented, "I'll take them."

That's how Charles Xavier and his sister ended up leaving the CIA with Moira and Agent Black.

_Caspartina_,

Erik had hunted. He had searched long and hard and finally, _finally_ his work with springing to fruitation. He had tracked down Shaw's boat.

That's how he ended up in the salty water donned in a wetsuit and carrying only a trusty knife. Erik was comfortable with his abilities enough to know that was all he needed.

"Herr Doktor." He greeted stalking down Shaw, who sat cuddling up with Emma Frost. Riptide was not to far off on the bench sitting idly with his legs crossed. All three sprung up when he surprised them, Shaw held out his hands to stop his 'friends' from attacking to rashly, "Wenig Erik Lensherr." (Little Erik Lensherr) He greeted pleasantly surprised-he had survived all these long years!

"He's here to kill you." Emma stated with a cold glare, she sheared into his mind to keep him from approaching, Erik collapsed against the deck as pain reared its ugly head in his skull. "welche Art der Begrüßung ist, " (What kind of greeting is that?) Erik's mind swam with unwanted memories of Shaw experimenting on him-killing his mother, "…dass nach all den Jahren?" (After all of these years?)Erik grabbed his knife and threw it at Emma, but she caught it single-handily in her diamond form. She kicked Eirk back into the ocean, "Emma," Shaw tutted, "We don't harm our own kind."

A ship in the distance blew its horn, "Oh- _now_ it's a party!"

"Stay where you are!" A group commanded as raid boats went into the waters, "They have a telepath on that ship." Emma commented her face lethal.

"I-I've lost Shaw," Charles stuttered, "Uh-I'm not sure. There's something blocking me. I think there's someone like me on that ship."

"Like you?" Moira questioned worriedly.

"Uh-sorry-A telepath." Charles shook his head, "This is incredible, I can actually _feel_ her inside _my_ mind. I'm very sorry but I don't think I will be much help to you tonight-you're on your own."

Riptide created tornado's in his palm, Charles looked on to see Riptide in the distance.

"Oh my g-d." The raid boats were all upheaved and turned into the ocean.

Erik in the water felt the metal of the anchor of the Caspartina ship, desperately he reached out his fingers grasping the metallic hold with his mind and lifted it high out of the water like a serpent.

"No! No, no! _Stop!" _Pain reared through Charles mind as he slipped around Emma's defenses, he grunted in pain, "Are you okay?!" Moira fretted, "There's someone else out there," He felt it, he pointed to the anchor hoisted far above the Caspartina, "There!"

"Time to go," Shaw muttered to Emma pulling her along below the deck. Erik thrust the anchor to the back end of the boat and looped the metal around, and pulled it back to him destroying the outter edges of the boat.

Beneath him a submarine unlocked its docks and started to propel downwards into the deep ocean, Erik shifted his attention over to the sub, reaching desperately to stop the movement, to bring the submarine to him. He used his rage to fuel his power, rage against his mother, the Nazis, Shaw. "_Argh_!"

But soon instead of bringing the sub to him, the sub brought Erik with _it. _

_"Let go!" _Charles shouted, "You're going to drown!" He tried to shout to Erik, he turned towards the Agents, "There's someone in the water! You have to help him!" Then he gave another cry out "Let him _go_! You have to _let him go_!"

But Erik still was being pulled by the metal of the submarine, Erik was almost there! He could stop this! Stop Shaw once and for all! Kill him, _drown_ him.

Charles Xavier plunged into the ocean's icy depths, he clung to Erik's back, making him lose his concentration on the submarine.

'_You'll drown.' _Charles whispered to his mind gravely, '_let go. I know what this means to you, but you're going to die.' _Erik trashed against Charles pull, '_Please, Erik, Calm-your mind.'_

Erik let go of the sub, realizing that one day-after another long and tedious hunt, he'd find Shaw again.

Erik and Charles reached the surface, "Get _off_ of me!" He shoved Chalres away from him, "Get off'a me!" He shouted furious that his prey had fled.

"Well done," Charles said happy that the man was still alive, "Who are you?" Erik demanded. "My name is Charles Xavier-We're here!" He shouted up on deck, "you were in my _head- how did you do that?!" _

Charles replied, "You have _your_ tricks, I have mine. I'm like you-just _calm_ you mind."

Erik wound down a bit, "I thought I was alone," The night had just sunk in, with the twinkling girl and man who could see his thoughts, until tonight, he had thought he was the only freak in the world. But as he stared in to Charles eyes, he knew that he was quite wrong, "You're not alone Erik, You're not alone."

* * *

Hello! So next chapter they meet Ivy! Rate and Review please!


	5. The Beginning of an Adventure

Chapter 5

Hank McCoy was a genius, and he knew it too.

His thoughts whipped by him like a hurricane with an appetite-sometimes it was painful to slow down or describe his thoughts. It made it impossible to have a normal conversation with the 'Hi, how're you?' when he was thinking about oxidation states and airplane combustion engines.

While the upside to his mutation was super smarts-it had a downsides to it too.

His feet. His feet were like a _Ateles Geroffroyi_ (Spider Monkey) in the Atelidae family. Hank could relate much it the Ateles Geroffroyi because their feet looked very similar, like an extra set of hands. An individual Ateles Geroffroyi would dwelled near the proximity of other groups. Much. Like. Hank. Their diet consisted of seeds and fruits-funny Hank loved these. In relationships the female would often have the lead over the male, and, once again, much like poor Hank. Unlike some, these species were awake during the day and slept high in the trees-when he could do it Hank loved to be hanging from the ceiling upside down, when he wasn't hiding his ghastly mutation of course. Aggression was rare, yes, Hank couldn't scream at someone for his life. Finally, they were a critically endangered species an estimated 2,000 in small, isolated packs, were it not that _Mutants_ were endangered too? That they died every day and came in small numbers? That they killed themselves off? It was a show of a new evolution, a new race.

But Hank wanted no part of it. His _metatarsals? _(foot bones) They would never be accepted into society-maybe his _Encephalon_ (synonym for brain), but not his _metatarsals_. They would be hated, feared because he was different, because they were unsightly, horrendous. Deep in his cardiac muscle he knew, he _knew, _no one would understand that no one could have any kind of adulation towards his feet. But he hoped someone would know and hate them with him-or it could just pertain that he was making an early cure to his feet, to mutations that had other similarities to his.

Then he could jump without worrying he would hit the ceiling, then he could relax about going on a beach with sandals, _sandals! _Hank had always wanted to wear sandals, in fact once his cure was done he was sure he would make a fool of himself, jumping around _like Melanoplus Bivittatus_ (Throated Grasshopers)

Between the _Blackbird I,_ his _cure_, and the _Cerebro:_ Charles Xavier , Erik Lensherr, and Raven Xavier were impressed. Raven and he had hit it off, someone who understood him, someone _else_ who had to hide their true selves from the world. It was cruel, hiding for your entire, yet necessary for survival.

Absolutely necessary that Hank could use Raven's blood to procure an antidote for their mutations. Absolutely.

He remembered the incident in his lab where he had asked Raven out to take her blood_, "When guys usually ask me out they don't normally want to take my blood." _Hank blushed a little remembering, he hadn't meant it like that. Raven was perfect for him, kind and sweet. But Hank had a job to do, he could dwell on his mini crush later.

Hank had to show Charles, _Cerebro_, a beautiful machine that increased brain waves, special for a telepathic mutation like Charles. "Spanish for brain?" He had asked impressed, while Hank flushed with joy and nodded. If anyone could understand his creations, it was Professor Xavier.

"What an adorable lab rat you make Charles," Erik had commented, making a sly smirk up at the young professor. "Don't ruin this for me Erik." Charles warned, placing his hands on the surrounding bar, looking very nervous. What would this do to his mutation? Would it harm him? Would he be overrun by the thoughts of others?

Charles was also excited too, Hank could tell, probably from the prospect of finding other mutants. "Are you sure we can't shave your hair?" Hank wondered, his hair might interfere with the waves from Cerebro.

"Don't touch my hair." Charles forewarned while Raven stiffed a giggle, Charles was dead set on not becoming a bald old professor.

Hank shook his head disappointed yet turned on Cerebro; Charles gasped and gripped the railing harder as a he touched a million minds-not just in the country but scattered all over the world.

"It's working!" Hank shouted with glee watching the locations of each mutant print itself on a piece of paper, Hank's grin stretched to his ears-_Success! _

…

Angel was dancing her 'shift' on 'her' table, each of the dancers had a table, and Raven had claimed hers in the center of the floor. Her tattoos shifted in the dim lights as she wriggled her arse and swung her body to the enormous jukebox on a large stage upfront. Two men sat at 'her' table watching with smirking leers and one held up a large tip, and Angel was surprised "Well for that, Daddy-o, you get a private dance."

Soon the three of them were in an empty room with a silk covered bed, the two men stretched out with matching grins. "You know its double for both right?" She remarked a little annoyed. Something was off with these two.

"No need," Erik raised his hand over a metal bucket with alcohol floated up to eye level; he offered some to Charles and Angel smirked. "Alright, My turn." She untied her shirt and her wings went from animated tattoos to full grown dragon-fly wings.

"How would you like a job where you get to keep your clothes on?" Charles asked with a focused expression and Angel smiles a genuine smile.

They explained to her about Shaw, the looming prospect of war, and other fellow mutants, Angel didn't really care, this got her into a higher paying more _respected _job. Angel would do anything to get away from the leers of the dirty men in the club, so she quit and went with Charles and Erik. They were in the car driving out from her city, "So…" Angel started after the conversation came to a lull; she was wrapped in Charles coat because she was cold from not having the proper clothes. "I'm guessing you already picked up Ivy?" Angel grinned, someone who knew her, someone who respected her for what she's done. Angel wouldn't be alone.

Charles frowned from behind the wheel, "What?" He questioned, if she was a mutant, Angel was the only mutant he had sensed around.

Angel frowned, "Ivy, She's a mutant." Com'on controlling plants was cool! It could be helpful! Charles and Erik shared a glance, "Where is she?" Erik questioned, Angel now scowled "We passed her home already, and she's about five blocks back."

Charles twisted a bit in his seat, trying to look at Angel sitting in the back to see if she was serious, "Angel, I didn't feel any other mutants when I came. There were no other mutants around."

Angel frowned, "Ivy's a mutant." She said with absolution, she didn't imagine their encounter, she was sure of it. Angel desperately didn't want to be alone unless she absolutely _had to be. _"Read my mind, I'm not lying." Erik and Charles shared another knowing look and Charles rolled over and slowed down to park at the side of the street. "Alright," He said with an offhand comment as he delved into Angel's memories.

Charles first saw how Ivy and Angel met, how Ivy had commented on Angel's tattoos and Angel on her music. He watched as Angel's memories unfolded to a three month relationship until the night they both of them wound up at Ivy's apartment, where every square inch there were thriving plants. He watched with a little awe in the morning when the poor girls had their hangovers and Ivy's mutation over earth and her leaf green skin. _That's why Angel wasn't that surprised about mutants. _

Charles turned the car around, and Erik's face molded into shock, "I can't sense her mind," Charles explained, "It might be due to her mutation, her power lies with earth." Erik nodded and leaned back, surprise surprise, someone could block the telepath, and it made Erik fleetingly jealous for a moment. He remembered when his thoughts were actually _private_.

"Sorry my friend, I'm doing my best." Charles commented with earnest to Erik's to his thoughts and he scowled, as he was saying…thinking.

Charles pulled the car up to a tall apartment building and the trio made their way up to the second floor, Angel snickered as she remembered stumbling up here piss drunk.

"She may not even be in there, I don't feel her mind at the slightest." Charles commented, and Angel looked at the light and a faint tune of shrill whistling and cooing under the door, "She's there." Charles let Angel go in front of him and knock on the door.

…

Ivy had had a busy night, but she was in a good mood, she had made the appropriate amount of ten dollars this evening, enough to get by some of her groceries, some bills etc.

She flipped on the lamp in the corner and pulled on her smock with her garden tools in it, tending to her vegetation with sheers and a cheerful whistle. She cooed soft sincerities to the plants that had wilting flowers, "_Y'all will come back, I promise you fine-looking seed. _" She whispered as she clucked her tongue as she sheered them off. _"I love you baby," _She murmured with a wince as she cut off another dying bud_. _ Ivy firmly believe that if life couldn't understand your language it could still understand your intentions. Talking and caring over her plants made Ivy feel strong, like she could do anything. It made the plants feel warm and comfortable and made sure they got the carbon dioxide they needed. All life was beautiful, stunning and gorgeous in Ivy's mind but there were the goods and bads to every species.

Ivy was interrupted by a knock, nervous she looked at the mirror hanging behind her front door; it was a check to see if her skin was noticeable. She turned down her lamp, who would come at this time of night? She pulled open the door.

"Angel!" She smiled hiding her nervousness with glee, two men flocked her sides. Had Angel turned her in? Was she going to some camp now because of her mutation for experimentation? Oh g-d, what if they were here to kill her? Torture her? Ivy's skin went a little green as she gulped and drew in strength from her plants, "Please, come in." Nervousness flooded her tone as the trio crossed through her door. She would be ready if they made any moves.

Erik looked around with amazement; there were plants everywhere, bonsai, raised vines, potted trees, and bushes, others that he couldn't name. Her apartment was full of them growing wildly everywhere. Ivy chuckled at his awed expression, "Can you tell I'm a bit of a gardener?" She joked and he snorted with a shark-like grin, "You can say that twice."

Angel beamed at Ivy, "They're like us," and Ivy frowned a little confused, "They're mutants." Angel clarified and Ivy's eye grew wide.

"O-oh," She stuttered an edgy wreck, they could still do damage to her home, her babies- "Well, would you like some tea? Coffee? I even have some whiskey but…" she peered at their expensive clothes, "Something tells me you are Scotch people." She grinned apologetic, she didn't drink Scotch much therefore didn't own it.

Charles grinned, "I'll have tea, thank you, I'm Charles Xavier- _by the way_-" He sent a wink her way "…and this is Erik Lensherr, we were hoping to talk to you about a recruitment of mutants." Charles said in earnest sticking out his hand, Ivy stared suspiciously at Charles, if she refused would they kill her? She was no war supporter. Ivy supported it if it were only the last available option.

Ivy turned toward the taller, darker haired man, where had she heard his name before? He seemed slightly familiar.

"Please," She shook his hand, "Call me Ivy." She said with a welcoming grin. Erik stuck has hand out too, flashing a smirk at the red head, "Erik then, and some water would be lovely." Then Ivy shook Charles hand.

"We've come here for a recruitment-"Charles started, and Ivy rose a single brow as if to say, _yes, I know you've already said that._ "-of many mutants. The CIA has recently is led to believe that the Russians and a group of mutants are allied against the United States."

Ivy held up a slim hand, in a gesture to stop, "Let me see, the CIA had caught wind of an possible attack and are recruiting other mutants to annul the group that wants to rage World War III?"

Charles and Erik shared a glance while Angel smirked to herself and plopped on Ivy's couch. "In a shell, yes." Erik replied.

A reached out like a snake and curled around Ivy's wrist like a bracelet, Charles and Erik watched in slight fascination as the wine seemed to transfer cleanly from the pot and to her skin. The roots pierced Ivy's skin and burrowed into her forearm, wrapping and rewrapping itself as if it held a mind of it's own.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Angel asked bluntly pointing to her arm. Ivy looked down as if just noticing what the plant was doing, "No," She shook her head with a laugh, she gestured top the right of her and the room lit up in a bright light, revealing Ivy's pale green skin, "My body is faintly made up of chloroplast and partly of the earth, and plant can live freely on my body, it's…like fertilizer." Ivy scratched her head sheepishly. Turning back to the two men she smiled, "I can also mutate my plants," All three watched as the vines around her wrist grew rapidly larger until it resembled a immense Boa Constrictor swung around her shoulders. "And I can manipulate dirt and rocks-" Some of the dirt from the pots floated upwards to her in a whirling tornado.

Angel laughed and commented, "Now you're just showing off!" and Ivy gave a wry grin, "Maybe," She agreed slightly relaxing around the two strange men.

Charles had a watched her motions very carefully like a kid at Christmas, "That's fantastic!" He exclaimed reaching out a curious hand to pet the wriggling vine, Erik smirked at the spinning rocks and dirt, "So you could just hurl a rock at your enemy and that's that?"

Ivy's grin disappeared, "I would never do something like that." She snapped. "I don't like hurting any living thing-I'm a pacifist." She looked to Charles sadly, "But I understand that some things need to be done for the sake of the greater good." Ivy was referring to a possible World War III. Ivy knew that if this wasn't stopped now countless lives could be lost.

"I'll go," She murmured looking over at Angel with worry. "But you have to tell me the details." She made her way into the open kitchen while Erik and Charles sat themselves down on the couch, "Why can I not read you?" Charles asked suddenly, two fingers to his temple.

"Read what?" Ivy looked up from her boiling kettle. "Sorry," Charles blushed at his crude approach, "I'm a telepath."

"Oh." Ivy's eyes widened a tad, she looked down at her gaudy metal bracelet, "That's because of this."

_SO HOW DO YOU LIKE THIS STORY?! Please rate and review! I ended it here because, A, it's pretty long, and B they are starting to get into the good stuff! Muhaha! Sorry it took so long to update this, my computer shut down for a while. I apologize. _


End file.
